Tempocolypse
by Captain Top Hat
Summary: Manny leaves for a week to see his sick mother. And hires a temp to help Bernard around the shop...But Bernard is having none of it...Fifth and final chapter up.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I'd buy it if I could but they were unwilling to trade it to me for the five green Starbursts and Madonna CD I offered. So Black Books is not mine.

Tempocolipse

Ch1

"You're not quitting. The last time you did that you got Hamburg disease and I had to save you from the Jolly Green Giant, your not doing it again." Bernard lit his cigarette. "I've not the time."

Manny frowned.

"Bernard, none of that ever happened."

"Of course it did." Bernard frowned back. " I still have the scar from when you thought you were a squirrel and bit me."

"No, Bernard, that was a real squirrel that bit you. And I'm not quitting."

Manny had asked Bernard for some time off to visit his mother in hospital. Bernard had drunk a mug of shampoo in retaliation.

The aftermath of which led to the destruction of an Oscar Wilde collection and Bernard assuming Manny was a wild hippopotamus.

"What do you plan for me to do while you tend to the elderly, aye?" Bernard asked as he reached for his wine. Some three hours had passed since the shampoo incident and now Bernard was back in his chair. Manny had had to knock him out with sleeping pills. Why he hadn't escaped during the time Bernard was asleep was because he didn't feel right about it. And he had an Oscar Wilde collection to tend to.

"Well, Fran could help out." Manny shrugged, sitting down opposite Bernard. "Or you could hire a temp."

"No. I'm not having some incompetent lay about come in here and be paid for acting like a twat. And as for the temp, well it would take too long to show them the ropes and the knots and the ways of things. " He blew smoke into Manny's face. "The answer is no."

"Well, either you give me the week off or I-I'll quit." He said unsteadily.

Bernard rolled his eyes.

"And I'll take all your left shoes with me."

Bernard poured himself some more wine and waved off the threat.

"And I'll –"

An hour later Bernard woke up and flailed his arms around for a while.

After that while he noticed the note taped to his cigarettes.

'Bernard,' it read.

'I'm sorry but I had to do this. If you are reading this it meant the pills wore off and I'm gone. I left the number of a temp agency on the phone but rang them anyway.

Charlie Forester will be here at nine o'clock tomorrow morning.

Goodbye, Manny.'

"Who the hell is Charlie Forester?" Bernard asked to himself.

Then he spotted the other note beneath the first. It read,

'That's the temp.'

Bernard grumbled and looked at the first note and then the second. Then again. And then a third time. Then backwards.

"Manny!" he yelled at the kitchen. "Who left?"

There was no reply.

"Manny! Come out or there'll be no treats tonight!"

That's when Bernard felt alone.

At nine o'clock the next morning a fair haired young man by the name of Charlie Forrester walked happily up to the door of Black Books.

He raised his hand to knock but stopped when he noticed the door was already open. Pushing it all the way he stepped inside the shop. Filthy, dusty books lined the shelves, tables and floor of the small shop and in the distance he could make out something snoring at a desk at the far end.

He walked carefully over to the sleeping figure and tapped it lightly on the shoulder.

"Excuse me?"

Bernard leapt awake and screamed,

"Veins!" at the top of his voice.

The sudden shock of the man's shrieks and jumps caused Charlie to gasp and step back.

"I'm sorry. I thought you, well, actually, I didn't know what-"

"We aren't open yet, go away." Bernard stuffed a cigarette in his mouth and felt for a lighter. "Where's my lighter? Manny!"

"Oh here." Charlie smiled and produced a lighter from his pocket and lit the cigarette.

Bernard stared at the man as he did this.

"Why haven't you gone yet? Go, go home." He turned to the kitchen. "Manny! Where are you?"

That was when the bell above the door jingled and Charlie looked up. A woman with short dark hair and a flowery dress and bag walked in. She looked at the man behind the desk and then at Charlie.

"Arse." She muttered.

"Hi!" Charlie smiled at the woman. "Anything in particular your looking for today?"

"Oh no, thanks, I'm here for him." She said pointing at the bewildered man at the desk. "I'm Fran." She said walking over and reaching out her hand. "Pleasure, I'm sure."

"Hello, Fran. I'm Charlie." He shook her hand. "I'm working here for the next-"

"Fran, thank goodness you're here. " Bernard interrupted. "There's a very strange man here. He produces fire as if by some form of black magic. He won't leave. I think he did something to the horse."

"What horse?" Charlie asked.

"He means Manny. I need to speak with Bernard, for just a moment, excuse me." Fran marched to Bernard and pulled his chair into the kitchen.

She just about heard Charlie ask who Bernard was when they were in the kitchen.

"Bernard!" Fran looked him in the eyes and told him sternly. "That man is a temp. He is here to take over Manny's job for the week. Manny called me from the bus to tell me to come down here and stop him from seeing you."

"Where is Manny?"

"He's gone to see his mother, she's in hospital. He hired a temp to work here-"

"Yes, yes, fine." He grumbled, batting Fran away.

He stood up and began making some tea.

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked.

"Nothing." Said Fran, slumping into a chair. "Manny's paying me a tener a day to keep you and him apart. I have to show him how you do things and you have to stay back here."

"You have no idea how we do things."

"Yes but I get a tener."

Ten minutes later the two emerged to find Charlie dusting the books with a beach towel. He was humming as he did so. When he heard them he looked up and smiled.

"Hello!"

"Where did you get a beach towel?" Fran asked carefully.

"Found it behind the door. Hope you don't mind. I just thought I'd give the place a quick dust."

Bernard stared at Charlie Forrester and imagined strangling him with the beach towel.


	2. Chapter 2

Ch2

The first day had gone brilliant for Charlie. He had managed to dust the whole shop before opening and then sold an entire 'slightly used' Oscar Wilde collection to a very unsure woman. He had made a new friend in the form of Fran, who had been lovely to him all day, and was paid enough to get a nice meal at a restaurant down the street. He couldn't wait for the next morning.

The day had gone terribly for Bernard. Fran had made him stay in the kitchen all day and only brought him fresh wine and cigarettes at two hour intervals. The television had disappointed and enraged him greatly and only when Charlie had gone for his break could Bernard come out to the shop. But worse then these other injustices was, not only did the temp use his curtains to dust the books that morning, but Bernard had had to listen to Fran flirt with him all day.

"Why were you so nice to him?" Bernard asked as he poured some wine for himself and settled back into his chair. "He was a twat."

"He was not. He was lovely." Fran pushed a glass across the table so that Bernard could fill it but he just poured a glass for himself and then downed the rest of the bottle.

"He was a twat." Bernard repeated and then hiccupped loudly. "What kind of man uses curtains to dust books? What kind of man dusts books?"

"What kind of man uses a beach towel as curtains?"

"A gentleman's man."

Fran shook her head and searched for more wine. She disappeared from view behind a bookshelf.

"I wasn't flirting with him." She said from behind the stack of books. "It wouldn't be right for the boss it flirt with an employee. Even if he is a temp."

Bernard drank some of his wine and took a long drag from his cigarette. Then he realized what Fran had said.

"What do you mean, boss! What temp!" He needed something to frown at. "Where are you!"

Fran poked out from behind the books and produced a bottle of two pound fifty red wine. She looked worried.

"Well, as far as he knows I own the shop. And you're my mentally ill cousin from Ireland who I took you in three years ago when I bought the shop." She disappeared again.

Bernard widened his eyes and then stood up. He walked over to the book shelf and knelt down next to Fran, who was sitting on the floor drinking the wine from a glass she had found on a typewriter. He leaned in and said loudly in her ear,

"And why would he think that, Fran!"

Fran jumped up and began backing into the desk.

"Because I, well, I told him that."

Bernard glared at the terrified woman.

"Why? Why did you tell him that, Fran?"

"Well." Fran straightened up and looked proud of herself. "I will be the one he's working for. As far as he knows you just live here."

"I do live here." Bernard growled. "This is my shop! I own it! And I will sell the books, I will sit out here and I will boss the temp! And neither you or Ming the Merciless are going to change that!"

Fran gripped Bernard firmly by the nose and yanked him towards her. He shrieked out loud and gasped as she twisted him down to the ground.

"You will cock it up. That is what you do. He will leave and we won't get anymore temps!"

"I don't want anymore!" Bernard gasped. "Their too much trouble! And they dust!"

Fran let go and grabbed her bag. Then she walked out the door.

Bernard grumbled and went upstairs to get the £4.99 corner shop finest.

Charlie walked into the shop the next day and smiled when he saw Fran standing over the desk.

"Good morning!" He waved at Fran.

"Hi." She said back in a shaky voice. Bernard had been nowhere to be seen and Fran was worried he was going to do something. Something Bernardy.

"How are you?" He smiled cheerily.

"Alright. I have-"

There was a crash from upstairs.

Fran froze.

"What was that?" Charlie asked.

"One moment." Fran put on a smile and backed into the kitchen. When she was safely behind the curtain that separated the shop and the kitchen she bolted up the filthy stairs.

"Bernard!" she yelled on her way up.

Turning the sharp corner at the top of the stairs she ran into Bernard's room and immediately regretted it.

She ran back out coughing violently and with a look of terror on her face. For the few seconds she was in there Fran was able to see that Bernard was not in his room so she began walking carefully along the corridor towards the bathroom.

"Bernard?" she called out carefully.

She entered the dirty bathroom and when she was sure he wasn't there began walking back out. That was when the door swung closed and Fran heard a key locking the door. Then a shaky, croaky voice began laughing manically from behind it. Followed by a drunken cough and hiccup.

"Bernard!" Fran beat on the door with both her hands and yelled. "What are you going to do?"

"I think you'll find that escape is quite impossible."

The sound of a key dropping on the floor could be heard and then Bernard saying as he walked down the steps:

"It's my shop. MINE! Yeh ha ha ha!"

Fran frowned, lit a cigarette and stared out the window.

"Arse."

Downstairs Charlie was setting the shop up for the day. He looked out the window at the passers by and smiled. As he checked that all the books were still clean he began humming a song he had heard on the radio that morning.

"Why do you always hum?" Came a voice from behind that sent a jolt up Charlie's back.

He spun around and saw a scraggy, messy, black clad figure sitting at the desk, leaning forward to light his cigarette. As the figure flicked off the lighter he took a long drag from his cigarette and blew a curling puff of smoke from his mouth. He stared at Charlie and sat back. The effect made Charlie shiver slightly.

"And you smile. Constantly." Bernard added. "Why? Why do you feel the need to be merry about everything?"

There was a small tinge of genuine interest in Bernard's voice.

"Well," Charlie placed his elbows on the table behind him and leaned back. He thought for a moment. "I guess life's too short to be sad all the time. Or angry for that matter. I'm happy because I want to have good time rather then whine or shout. And then I do have a good time and that makes me smile more."

Bernard blew some more smoke.

"But what if you enjoy being angry?"

"Maybe some people do but that's not for me." He turned around again and continued dusting. "Bad vibes."

Bernard poured out some wine and took out a book. Damn hippies.

"Hey, do you know where Fran is?" Charlie called back to Bernard.

Bernard just turned his page and drank his wine.

An hour passed before either of the men said anything to each other. Charlie had customers to tend to and Bernard had his book. After this hour a huge bang, followed by a clatter of wood, could be heard from upstairs. Charlie looked worried but then put on a reassuring smile for the woman he was helping.

"That's the cat." He lied to her. "Must have knocked down the, um…"

"Red wood?" Bernard suggested and turned a page.

Charlie walked over to the kitchen but stopped when he realized that some one was running down the stairs. Suddenly Fran came stumbling down the steps. She ran into the shop and stopped when she saw Charlie was intact. She straightened up and smiled at him.

"Sorry about that. I had to take care of the…water level of the…" She gave up and tried to walk as classily as she could across the shop. She began pretending to check stock.

Bernard took a drag from his cigarette and kept his head down.

When Charlie went for lunch, Fran closed the shop for an hour and decided to take care of Bernard. As she closed the door she said to him,

"You are a bad man."

"I did what had to be done." Was his defense.

"You locked me in the bathroom." Fran turned around and scowled at him.

"How did you get out, by the way?" He asked with interest.

"Threw the toilet seat at the door for about a half hour." She said casually.

"You're paying for that door." He mumbled.

"Why did you do it?" she asked.

"Because a man's bookshop is his castle. It's a sacred thing, not to be tampered with by temp nor horse. "

Fran nodded and went out for a sausage roll.

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I'll be perfectly honest. I have not a notion what is going to happen. It will end though. And what an ending it shall be, me maties! Ideas welcome! -'-,-


	3. Chapter 3

Ch3

After the bathroom incident Fran decided to allow Bernard to stay in the shop. He didn't seem to want to harm Charlie; he just wanted to sit in his chair, read, drink and smoke. This scared Fran.

Somehow this temp had managed to free himself from Bernard's bubble of hatred, which seemed to contain all human beings. Fran found it intriguing and scary.

After the second and third days were gone she started to wonder if Bernard was, in the absence of his favourite plaything Manny, becoming almost human. Although he said little or nothing to Charlie, Fran was convinced that Bernard almost liked the man. He was a hard worker and loved books. And he always got tea for Bernard at lunch.

Fran worried that Manny might be replaced.

Charlie could tell that Bernard was finally warming up to him. He was glad. Although it was only a temp job he was becoming fond of Black Books. The setting was peaceful and he loved books so it seemed perfect.

Also Fran was really nice.

As he left on the fourth day of work he looked at the dusty desk at the top of the shop and took in the sight of Bernard lighting his cigarette with a grin.

Bernard lit a cigarette and smiled. The temp was soon to be gone. Forever. His reign of dusting and smiles would be gone and Bernard had the perfect going away gift. He cackled menacingly, coughed, choked, took a drag from the cigarette to settle it, choked and drank some wine. He cleared his throat and smiled. The smile, like his stature, hair and mood, was lopsided.

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Short chapter I know but the next one shall be up soon. Think of this as the ad break!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I am so sorry. This should have been up months ago.

Ch 4

"Back soon." Fran said as she walked out of the shop. It was the second last day and she felt that Bernard could be…trusted; no…not trusted…well at least Bernard would not hurt Charlie. Hopefully.

And besides, she would only be gone for an hour.

"Bye Fran!" Charlie waved after her with his smile blazing.

Bernard waited for the door to shut to ask;

"So what's for lunch?"

Charlie looked at him in a confused manner but his smile never faltered.

"I don't know. Whatever Fran brings back I suppose."

Bernard looked up from his book with a single eyebrow cocked.

"What?"

"Fran. Whatever she decides to get. Why?"

Bernard slammed his book closed and knocked his head back laughing.

"Did she not tell you? You make the lunch."

Charlie thought for a moment and then nodded.

"Alright then." He dropped his broom and headed for the kitchen. "What would you like?"

Bernard stood up and followed Charlie behind the curtain.

"Pasta." He said and then, as he turned to shut the curtain, began to laugh manically.

None of the customers seemed to find it odd.

"So where is the pasta?" Charlie asked.

Bernard sat down in the chair across from the television and stared at the young man.

"The pasta aisle of Londis I'd assume."

Charlie turned and frowned.

"Do you not have any pasta here?"

"Why do you ask?" Bernard frowned back.

Charlie shook his head as if trying to put everything back in place.

"Well, you asked for pasta, didn't you?" He continued smiling.

Bernard was reading a book and looked up at Charlie with a look of shock. He widened his eyes.

"What are you doing in here?" He gestured to the shop. "We could be being robbed by the reanimated corpse of Clint Eastwood and we would be none the wiser."

"But…Clint Eastwood isn't dead."

"Have you not seen 'Planet of the Apes'?"

Charlie shook his head to fix it again and then laughed,

"Of course!"

"Then you'll know that the monkeys gut and skin Clint Eastwood after he discovers the statue." He turned the page of his book.

Charlie, yet again, shook his head in confusion.

"Wait, that doesn't happen and Clint Eastwood isn't in 'Planet of the Apes'."

Bernard shook his head and sighed.

"You must have blanked it out."

"But even if he was, that was just a movie. Clint Eastwood isn't dead."

Bernard just laughed again.

"Why of course he is! Why else do you think all the rabbits are in mourning?"

Charlie's jaw dropped and he tried to wrap his head around what Bernard had said. He decided to just let it go and buy some pasta.

"I'm going to go buy the pasta. Do you need anything else?"

Bernard waved Charlie away.

"Don't forget to look out for him." He called after the young man.

"I'm back." Came the chirpy voice from within the shop.

Bernard grinned evilly. He stood up and walked into the shop.

"Well hello." Bernard said sternly. "And what time do you call this, then?"

Charlie looked puzzled.

"Oh, I don't know, two o'clock?"

"Well I think maybe you should _know_ what time it is before you come waltzing back in here after leaving the shop unattended for almost twenty minutes."

"But you were here."

Bernard's heart leapt. Charlie's smile had become slightly less wide with this last statement. It had begun.

"But what if I had decided to leave? What then? The shop would have been left unattended all because you wanted to buy something that undoubtedly has something to do with smiling."

"Well," Charlie said. "then you would have been the one to leave the shop unattended. Because you were the one who left it when there was no one to look after it."

"I would never leave my shop unattended." Bernard said as if Charlie had implied he ate puppies.

"Look, I'm going to go make the pasta now. You'll eat it and then we can get back to selling books." Charlie said this with the slightest bit of frustration in his voice.

As he walked past Bernard into the kitchen the shop owner smiled his own smile. A drunk, devious smile.

He stepped in after Charlie and watched as boy began filling a pot with water. Bernard stood and stared for three minutes until the pasta was ready to be taken out. Charlie took out a sieve from beneath the sink. It took almost another three minutes to try and removed the caked on food.

As he was about to pour the pasta into the sieve Bernard sauntered over and watched over Charlie's shoulder.

"Are you alright?" He asked Bernard.

"You know that if any of the pasta was to miss that sieve," He stared into Charlie's eyes. "if it was to fall onto the floor or into the sink, you know that it would be inedible. The whole lot would be spoiled."

Charlie blinked.

"W-why is that?"

Bernard just looked at the sieve. Charlie went to pour the pasta when a sudden feeling came over him.

He felt that something was telling him not to miss the sieve. Something was warning him that if he missed the sieve, that if any of the pasta was to hit anything other than the sieve, he would be in danger. He didn't know why but he feared the task before him.

Bernard smiled. He knew that look on the boy's face. That was the look that would appear on Manny's face whenever he was asked to do something. It was a pleasant look for Bernard to see.

The pot was tipped. The pasta began to move. Water poured from the pot through the sieve. And Bernard coughed.

Charlie wasn't sure which hand it was that slipped. He didn't know if it was the one with the pot or the one with the sieve. All he knew was that before he could realize what had happened one little piece of pasta missed the sieve and landed in the filthy porcelain sink. He had been so tense and worried, that one little cough had sent a jolt through him.

"Alright then, back to the shop." Was all the Irish man said.

"I'm sorry." Charlie mumbled.

"It was a mistake anyone could have made." Bernard said, picking up a packet of cigarettes. "Apart from me. I know better."

Charlie sighed. He put down the pot and the sieve and took a deep breath. Bernard laughed evilly in his head when he saw this. The young ones are always the best spirits to break.

"Yes, lets go…sell…books." Charlie sulked across the room towards the curtain.

Yes, that's right, sulked. Oh what a sight to behold. With a maniacal smile Bernard followed the young man into the shop.

Though not before snatching up a lollypop and asking,

"Have you ever seen Kojac?"


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hey there people! Well this is last chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. And I'm sorry for the six month gap between chapter 3 and 4.

Ch 5

Fran waltzed back into the shop with a ham roll and a smile on her face.

"Charlie?" She called happily.

There was no response. There were two or three customers in the shop and not a sign of either Bernard or Charlie.

"Bernard?" She walked across the shop and headed into the kitchen.

Bernard sat with a cigarette in his mouth, a wine glass in his hand, and a smile on his face. But the smile was one of pure pleasure; the likes of which Fran knew meant that he had done something terrible. She feared for Charlie.

"What have you done to him?" She asked, glaring at Bernard and walking up to his chair in the kitchen.

"Nothing. He simply left. He said he was going out for pasta and then left." He blew a curling puff of smoke in Fran's direction.

She gripped him by the hair and yanked him up off the seat.

"He didn't do that. I know that he didn't. Now tell me what you did or I'll-"

"Fran?"

Fran turned and in doing so made Bernard do the same. Standing in the shop and staring at the two was Manny.

"Manny!" Fran cried, dropping Bernard's head. "He did something! Bernard did something to the temp! He did something to Charlie and now I can't find him!"

"Manny, she's crazy." Bernard stood up from his chair. "She keeps talking about a temp. Some strange man by the name of Charlie. He smiles and cleans and enjoys customers. What goings on she has concocted inside that head I can only imagine."

"Bernard, I know Charlie is real." Manny sighed, putting down his suitcase and walking towards the kitchen. "I called the temp agency and I told you he was coming."

"Clearly you've both succumb to the same brain crazy disease." Bernard sat back down. "Thank God one of us has stayed immune. Now, as the only sane person in this room and quite probably the whole of London, it is my duty to find a cure and have a street named after me." With that he picked up his wine, snatched up a book and began to read.

Fran and Manny looked at each other and then at Bernard. Without saying anything they seemed in agreement that Bernard should be avoided and left out of the Charlie search.

"What are we going to do?" Fran asked Manny as they walked out of the kitchen and into the shop. "I don't know where he could have put him."

"Well if you were Bernard, where would you put a temp?"

"You know as well as I do that no one can imagine what Bernard's mind is like." Fran fell on the chair at the desk and sighed. "So is your mum alright?"

"Yeah she's fine." Manny leaned against the wall. "She's a lot better. The doctor-"

Just then the phone rang. Manny reached down and picked it up.

"Hello Black Books-"

"Is this Mr. Black?" Came a deep and angry voice.

"Um, no this is Manny."

"Manny then. This is Mr. Callahan, from the temp agency that you contacted last week."

"Well…hello Mr. Callahan."

"I have in my office one Mr. Charlie Forrester. Do you recognize this man, Mr. Bianco?" The voice asked.

"Well I can't really see him over the phone so…wait, how did you know my name?"

"Do you or do you not recognize Charlie Forrester?"

"I know his name." Manny was very confused. "But how did you know-"

"He is sitting here now, barely able to speak. He tells us that the owner of the shop did things to him. He says that he was sent on pointless shopping trips for pasta, was made to believe that Clint Eastwood was dead and haunting the book shop, he says that the owner of the shop, Mr. Bernard Black, began impersonating a TV character with a lollypop in his belly button!"

Manny pulled away from the phone and stared, terrified, at Fran.

"He showed Charlie Belly Savales."

Fran's eyes widened and she let her mouth fall open slightly.

"Oh no…"

Manny placed his ear back to the receiver just in time to her the man say,

"I don't know how you people treat your temps but this is unacceptable! Never expect another temp from us ever again!" And the phone was slammed down.

Manny slowly placed the receiver back into its cradle and stared at Fran.

"Well at least he's alive." Manny shrugged. "Though I think Bernard may have killed some part of him."

They looked into the kitchen and saw Bernard drinking his wine and being Bernard.

They decided not to yell at him or give out to him. Or do anything about the whole incident. Because Bernard was just being Bernard.

There was nothing they could do now besides sit down, have a drink and try to stop thinking about what Bernard could have done to Charlie.

"Please don't go away again Manny." Fran said as she poured some wine. "I don't think I could handle it."

"Well thanks Fran." He smiled. "It's nice to know I'm appreciated."

Manny put extra emphasis on that last word and said it rather loudly into the kitchen. Bernard heard it, but it interrupted his book so he avoided answering. Answering lead to more words. And more words meant less reading. And besides, if he answered Bernard would probably end up realizing that he was glad Manny was back too.


End file.
